


Contingency

by AuroraNova



Series: The Vadari Chronicles [7]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-07 08:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19205287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: "Do you think Starfleet Intelligence is going to give you any problems?”Julian makes a joke and learns just how much he relies on Garak's friendship.





	Contingency

**Author's Note:**

> So, this series has taken off like gangbusters! I'm also off from work for two weeks, so I have time to write as I'm inspired. 
> 
> Thanks to all who've commented, left kudos, and encouraged me to play in this sandbox.

Whatever is lacking on Vadari VII at the moment – power for replicators, enough medical staff, trees in the orchards left standing, Tarkalean tea – the sonic showers are a strength. Julian had grown used to the subpar showers on DS9 which were prone to alarming rumbling sounds whenever there were fluctuations in the power grid (that is, at least weekly) and often squeaked loudly when turned on.

Needless to say, he is enjoying his peaceful showers. After a long shift at the hospital it’s always nice to come home to a relaxing sonic shower.

Tonight he’s late getting home due to a touch-and-go emergency brain surgery. His young patient ventured into an unstable pile of rubble, one of the Breen legacies, and subsequently took a brick to the head. In the absence of a specialized neurosurgeon (the hospital’s only such person died in the Breen attack), the other doctors were quick to point out Julian has the most relevant experience.

The girl survived surgery and the crucial first hours afterwards, so her recovery looks promising. Julian is relieved, but the adrenaline rush wore off hours back and he’s more than ready for bed.

He comes out of the bathroom to find Garak speaking with someone at the computer.

“My answer remains as final as it was last time,” says Garak.

“I have a great deal of latitude in terms of sweetening the deal.”

“Nothing I want is in your power to give. I’ll thank you not to contact me again, Commander.” With that, Garak closes the comm link on a Starfleet officer.

“What was that about?” Julian asks.

“Starfleet Intelligence clings to the fantasy that I can be enticed to work for them.”

It makes sense, on the surface. Garak worked for Starfleet during the war, and then left Cardassia again apparently of his own volition, the recipient of a Federation residence permit. Of course, the theory only holds up if you don’t know him at all.

Julian still doesn’t know why Garak left Cardassia, other than the usual greater good for the state, or at the very least its people. (The risk to Garak’s own life can only be a secondary concern; Cardassia always comes first.) He does know that leaving in no way indicates Garak can be tempted to work for Starfleet Intelligence. Unless and until Garak thinks doing so will help Cardassia, he won’t be persuaded.

“I take it they’re persistent,” says Julian.

“Yes. There’s food ready for you in the stasis unit.”

“Thank you.” He’s very hungry and grateful to skip the preparation. “What did you make?”

“Fish cakes and a salad.”

“Sounds good. Do you think Intelligence is going to give you any problems?”

“Aside from wasting my time, no. I don’t always think the organization lives up to its name, but they’re smart enough not to threaten me.”

Threatening Garak isn’t likely to end well. He no doubt knows any number of dirty secrets Starfleet would find embarrassing in various degrees, he’s fully aware of Section 31’s existence, and considering Garak, he probably has multiple insurance policies in place.

Julian pours oil and vinegar on his salad and digs in. It’s not at all what he expected. “Is this basil?”

“Yes. Do you not like basil?”

“I like it, but it’s traditionally used as an herb, not a salad green.”

“I don’t see why not,” says Garak. “It’s a leaf, isn’t it?”

Basil with cucumbers and Betazoid touri peppers makes for a unique salad, but Julian is very hungry and it’s not bad, just different. He shrugs and loads his fork with another bite. “It works.”

“It’s far more flavorful than your bland lettuce. I don’t understand why humans ever bothered to cultivate such tasteless plants.”

“And I don’t know why Cardassians can’t eat anything that doesn’t have at least six different flavors,” retorts Julian between bites. Garak’s salad dressing is overpowering. “But never mind that. You’re really not worried about Starfleet Intelligence?”

“No, but obviously you are.”

“I’ve seen firsthand what Section 31 can do if you refuse to play by their rules, and I’ve come to believe they’re capable of using Starfleet Intelligence when it serves their purposes.”

“Of course they are,” says Garak. “Nevertheless, I don’t think that’s a concern in this particular case. Section 31 is content to leave me in peace so long as I do the same, I’m sure. It’s best for all involved. As for Starfleet Intelligence, they’ll give up eventually.”

Julian wants to believe the universe is a fair place free of retribution. Recent experience has suggested otherwise. “They could threaten your residence permit if you don’t agree to consult as needed.”

“They could,” agrees Garak. “If they’re exceptionally unwise.”

Oh yes, he has insurance policies, without question.

“I think the odds are low enough that you needn’t worry over the prospect,” he goes on.

Julian counters, “And if they do try?”

“I’ll figure something out. I always do.”

“Well, worst case scenario, I guess we could get married.”

In his own head, it was a joke. Not a carefully considered one, obviously, but a joke nevertheless. One he hears the words out loud he’s surprised to discover he means them. If it came down to losing Garak off to who knows where or marriage, Julian would pick the latter. A companionate marriage wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to him, he decides. Not if it was with Garak.

Garak goes still with surprise. “I’m sorry, what?”

Now Julian has created a delicate conversational problem. He starts with the basic explanation. “You’re here on a valid residence permit. If you marry a Federation citizen while you’re here, you can move to a marital permit and those can’t be revoked unless you’re convicted of a serious crime.”

He fully expects Garak to make a snide comment such as ‘how quaint,’ but no such remark is forthcoming. After moment, Garak instead says, “And you would volunteer for this?”

Under Garak’s piercing gaze, Julian wishes he’d thought just a bit longer before blurting out this supposed joke. “If it came to that, yes.”

“I doubt your future paramours would approve.”

Hypothetical future lovers versus having Garak around is not much of a contest. As much as Julian is finding his place here, he knows he’d be much less closer to contentment without Garak. This might change in the future, but for now he suspects they need each other (not that Garak will ever admit it).

“Since when have I let disapproval stop me from doing what I think is right?”

“A valid point,” says Garak. “I doubt it will be necessary, but your generous offer is nevertheless appreciated.”

Julian goes back to his dinner with much to think about. He doesn’t make much headway due to his exhaustion.

A short time later they go to bed. Garak does his usual security check while Julian sets his alarm for the next morning.

“Good night, Elim.”

“Good night, Julian.”

Happily, he doesn’t dream of a wedding.


End file.
